


A Dead Doe's Requiem

by witchofthemoors



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of religion, Multi, This fic includes:, all CONSENSUAL & LEGAL, between adults, canon compliant mind games, english is my third language and i am trying my best, once again i am writing you as a slut and in third person, that's it for warnings :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchofthemoors/pseuds/witchofthemoors
Summary: The poor thing.Walking straight into the lion's den.If only she hadn't been so hungry.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Original Female Character(s), Alana Bloom/Reader, Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Hannibal Lecter/Reader, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Will Graham/Original Female Character(s), Will Graham/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Traveling through the Dark, by William E. Stafford

"Traveling through the dark I found a deer

dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.

It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:

that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car 

and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing; 

she had stiffened already, almost cold.

I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason—

her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting, 

alive, still, never to be born.

Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights; 

under the hood purred the steady engine.

I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red; 

around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

I thought hard for us all—my only swerving—, 

then pushed her over the edge into the river."


	2. Ensnared

She would never admit to the world that she had spent about fifteen minutes calming herself down before walking into this job interview. Secretary. A Bachelor’s degree on the horizon, thousands of dollars in student loans, and she was now walking into the place she loathed most in Baltimore. She hated herself for it, but someone who lectured at the Baltimore Police Academy needed eye candy and was willing to pay good money for it. She had read the job description, scrutinizing it for any hidden details or traps.

Graham, FBI profiler. That was pretty much all she had on him, and he could very well be a problem. But again, the money was good, too good even, and she was on her last legs. Rent was due soon. The pantry was mostly empty, save for a lonely sleeve of saltines, half-eaten, and a box of macaroni, nothing to eat it with. Every time her stomach growled, she closed her eyes and thought of cold, dark water. Sinking, deep down. Meeting the maker at the bottom of the Baikal. She’d forget all about being hungry.

Within the job description, she had found interesting requests. ‘Must be able to withstand disturbing situations.’ ‘Must get along with all animals, especially dogs.’ She dismissed it, scoffing. After all, the man was not a cop. That’s what she kept telling herself, at least, to avoid booking it in the opposite direction.

 _A rather worrisome, intense disregard for authority and rules_. That’s what her childhood therapist had written about her, anyway.

The building was bleak, row after identical row of hallways. She shuddered, tugged at her coat collar. It was winter, snow was piling up outside, much to the general population of Baltimore’s eternal dismay. She was wondering why on Earth was the heating not working in the damn building when she suddenly arrived at the lecture hall of one W. Graham.

Her throat felt a little dry. She closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment, a slow breath. Then she knocked on the door, thrice, each movement so deliberate and contained she seemed to be putting on a play.

"Come in.” The voice was strained, frazzled almost. She pushed the handle down and the door unlatched. Snow-blind in the gloomy lecture hall, she felt her way around, closing the massive door behind her. The darkness played a trick with her eyes, confused from the exposure to the unforgiving white light of snow, but she still did her very best to walk towards the man without entangling herself.

“You must be here for the interview.” The shape spoke from the middle of the room, obscured. She blinked a few times, her vision finally growing accustomed, and was able to make out the facial features of…

“Will Graham.” He extended his hand to her, carefully avoiding eye contact, and her brows raised slightly at his awkwardness as she shook it. “Just Will, from now on, I hate formalities. Your name?”

She introduced herself, and he scanned her quickly. Quiet woman, perhaps, but not timid. Will’s eyes landed on her face, pupils drilling into her head. What had caught his attention? Her demeanor? Her red lipstick? Her tendency to avoid speaking more than necessary? 

“Are you going to ask me something or should I throw an answer out there for you to catch?” She smirked, looking somewhere between provocative and deeply annoyed. Will lowered his eyes, ashamed.

“I’m sorry about that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and what a good nose he had, she noted. His whole face. Will was beautiful. “I’ve been really exhausted lately, my social skills are not as polished as they could be.”

“Tarnish is a form of art.” She laughed, looking at her shoes, and then back at his soulful eyes. “One could argue.”

Will’s lips curled up into a trembling smile, and he held her gaze for a second before turning away, overwhelmed. 

“The interview.” She reminded him, gently.

“Right. Interview. I’ve read your resume...” He started, looking back at the stack where her name read on the top. He’d been surveying her material, curious. “So you’re in school right now?”

She cringed for a moment, tension building in her jaw. God, her dentist hated her. “Technically, yes,...sir? Should I call you sir, or are you just a lecturer?”

Will laughed, wincing slightly. “Oh, it hurts when you put it like that.”

“Sorry, I…” She hesitated. “I am taking a break from school to work for a while. I needed some time away.”

He noticed the sudden return to the main subject, but said nothing about it. He’d remember it later, when beginning his profile for her. Why would he formally hire anyone without screening them to hell and back?

“Understandable. School sucks.” Will scoffed. He knew. Oh, he knew.

She smiled at him, throwing him off his balance. Jesus, what a beautiful thing, he thought, embarrassed to ever utter those words (even if only in his mind) and unable to repress the sudden jolt in his chest. 

This made him panic.

“You’re hired.” Will said, almost nonchalantly, to contrast the rage he was feeling towards his own lack of decorum. He was so confused; no student of his had ever elicited even the slightest hint of attraction from him, and rarely ever did women make him actually nervous to speak. Yet there she was, mid-twenties, unshakeable, and he was being blown off the edge of the precipice. 

She blinked a few times, eyebrows joining. “I’m hired. Wow. Okay.” Her mouth fell open for a moment as she looked around. “If this is a sample of your interrogative process, then I sincerely don’t know how you catch killers.”

Will’s eyes met hers, firm. “I think you’re an excellent candidate for the job. You’re meticulous and driven but not frantic. Your aversion to tedious banter is a plus, I don’t want anyone boring in my workspace.” She laughed, looking a bit puzzled, and he couldn’t contain the smile that tugged at his lips.

“And you know all this from the five or six sentences I’ve said?” She was also testing her grounds. They were acutely aware of each other’s presence, overwhelmingly so, and she was in disbelief. “I know you’re smart, but can you see into my mind?”

Will wanted to run. He could feel the dull throb inside his head, an ache so old he sometimes mistook it for normal. But instead of running, he decided to be truthful. “Yes. Yes I can.”

The smile fell from her face. She swallowed as gently as she could, unable to break eye contact, though she wished she would. Will’s eyes were searching the contents of her brain; she could feel him walking around, peeking into the corners.

The room was getting hot, too hot for her to feel comfortable. Her clothes felt tight, prickly, and her breath was catching in her throat. She needed to get out of there, any excuse would do. “So..." she started, feeling the hair standing on the back of her neck. "When should I be here for my first day?”

Will noticed the shift in her voice. He could taste the uneasiness in the air. He hated that he enjoyed it, especially coming from her. It made him sick, but he was looking through the girl, and seeing only a doe. He shook his head.

“Um…how about tomorrow, at nine? I need some assistance reorganizing some…well, _most_ of the files in my office. An extra pair of hands would be great.” Will exhaled, tired of his own bullshit, tired of seeing what wasn’t there at all, tired of having to counteract every intrusive thought with fifty reasons why not to do it. She noticed how shaky his hands were. She could tell he was going through great trials.

Something inside her softened a little. “You got it. Nine in the morning. I’ll be here.”

Will’s gaze lingered on her mouth for a moment or two, lost in his own confusing thoughts, and when he came to, she was gone. He looked around, breathless, desperately trying to bring himself out of an episode; he focused on their conversation, reminded himself that it had been real. The resume was still there. She had left a few mud prints on the grey carpet. Will exhaled, his heart rate returning to normal.

She had been there.

She would be there again.

She was never going to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First and foremost, I'd like to announce that I do not, in fact, have a beta, which means that my writing might be way more convoluted than I originally perceived it to be. Secondly, welcome! Enjoy the show. After all, I'm putting it on just for you.


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